She comes at night walking on stony path
lady in blue from some time distant past
no rest, tormented, trapped, in endless time
how long to stroll in dream, how long to last.
Her home, nowhere in this forsaken land
her time like an hourglass has long since gone
she walks at night through graves of distant dead
she knows not how and wherefore to move on.
Death has no rest for lost and lonely souls
it takes all life and leaves decay and bones
no thought, no sight, a spectre trapped alone
the restless spirit walks it has no home.
The church and grounds are paced as spirit glides
along the cobble stones and through the grass
a priest will kneel and ask repent in name
so ghost will find its way to sleep at last.
© D Marsden 2016
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